


Roses And Violets

by clementinsel



Series: Petunia Dursley Archives [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28548540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clementinsel/pseuds/clementinsel
Summary: Random thoughts of Petunia Dursley, No real Plot, inner monologue type stuff.
Series: Petunia Dursley Archives [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2091576
Kudos: 3





	Roses And Violets

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I'm Clem! I know this isn't a canon representation of Petunia, but I was just kind of practicing writing, this is kinda an inner monologue of a non-canon Petunia.

Petunia Dursley did not know when, or how, but somewhere along the line she had become bitter and cruel. She hadn’t always been like this, at some point in her life she ought to have been a respectful young lady with her life ahead of her.

She could hardly blame her sister anymore, not now, though when she had been 14 it seemed like Lily, the younger of the two, who had always looked up to her, followed her every move, had become the source of her problems.

When Petunia turned eleven, she had gotten dresses and hair ribbons, and fantasy books. She had hoped for bike. When Lily turned eleven, she had gotten a letter, delivered by owl, a visit from a teacher who Petunia didn’t know the name of yet, but sorely disliked. Lily earned her parents highest praise, and from what Petunia could tell, though she hadn’t been in the room, Lily was some kind of magician, and they were sending her off to the circus.

That wasn’t the case though, she soon found out. Lily came bursting into their room, telling her sister “Pet! I’m a wizard and I’m going to Hogwarts!”

Now Petunia did not know what Hogwarts was, or where it was. But she hated it nonetheless, she felt left out, why wasn’t _she_ a wizard, why wasn’t _she_ going to Hogwarts. She couldn’t find it in her to believe Lily, nobody in their right mind would. But when she came back from “Diagon Alley” with a wand and robes and spell books, Petunia had no choice but to believe.

But deep inside her, she hoped it wasn’t true, its not like she didn’t want her sister to be special, of course she did. But she wanted to be special _too_. She wanted a wand, to go to boarding school, and learn magic.

Petunia’s first day at secondary school, had been uneventful, she had not made friends, she had not taken the train, it was only a few streets away. And her uniform had been wrinkled, and she didn’t have a tie, just a grey woollen jumper and a grey pleated skirt. Her socks itched her legs, and her shoes gave her blisters because they are brand new and hadn’t been worn in yet.

Her mother didn’t walk her. She supposed she was old enough to go on her own. And she did. She had always been on her own.

Lily’s first day was the opposite of uneventful. She had said goodbye to her sister in the morning, Petunia had wanted to go too, but she had school that day and “You won’t be able to get through anyway – they don’t let muggles on the platform” Lily flushed as she said muggles. Petunia did not know what the word muggle meant, though her embarrassment at the word was unmistakeable

Petunia was an adult now. And Lily was dead. Petunia supposed she was lucky in this regard. Not in being alive, but in being a muggle. She didn’t want to get involved with all this wizard shit. That’s what it was. Wizard shit.

She had a son now. A life of her own. She hadn’t a job yet but supposed that being a housewife couldn’t be so bad. Her husband was OK. That’s all – okay. She had settled for him. He was all she had. Vernon had been there when Lily had not. Vernon had been there when her parents ignored her, when they pooled all their money into Lily’s school supplies, leaving her with second-hand uniforms, leaving her with less.

Dudley was the light of her life. When everything else seemed dull and dark, and she hadn’t a hope left in the world. She had Dudley, his big shining smile and chubby red cheeks. Petunia would spoil this boy, giving him the childhood, she lacked. Secretly Petunia hoped Dudley to be a wizard. But knew, the chances were slim. She hadn’t lost hope though, she knew there had to be at least some magic in her genes, considering lily.

She did not go to the funeral. Not out of spite, but out of shame. She could hardly call herself Lily’s sister anymore. She had been mean, consistently, throughout their childhood, and Lily had stopped visiting in later years. Petunia didn’t know why, but Christmas with her parents without Lily were not as fun as she’d hoped. There was a Lily shaped hole under the tree, her empty bedroom, her bike rusting outside, she hardly used it anymore, and it was below Petunia to use her sister’s bike.

Petunia found comfort in Vernon, he didn’t know about Lily, he didn’t care. He didn’t care if Petunia could do magic or not. He didn’t care if Lily could do magic or not.

They got married the second Petunia turned 18, she did not invite her family to the wedding. This was the beginning of her new life. She was Petunia Dursley now, not Petunia Evans.

When Petunia announced she was pregnant, it felt like everything was going her way. She had moved out 4 years, out of her childhood home and neighbourhood.

Then Lily announced she was pregnant, and Petunia was jealous again. She didn’t want to be jealous, but she felt as if Lily was doing everything she did, but better, she was going to have a magical child with her magical husband, she would work a magical job and have magical friends.

Nobody in Surrey knew Petunia, to passers by she was just an ordinary woman, pushing her perambulator along the streets of Little Whinging. She liked to take walks with Dudley, she liked anything to do with Dudley. And he was growing up to fast – she thought.

He had already grown out of the baby clothes Petunia had spent her pregnancy sewing. The hats she had knitted were already too small for his ever-growing head.

When Dudley was nearing one, maybe he was already one, Petunia doesn’t really remember. She received a phone call, then a letter, and then a knock at the door. It was an old man, with greying hair and a growing beard. Petunia had seen him before. He called himself Albus Dumbledore, which Petunia found to be a silly name for a person, both then and now.

Petunia doesn’t remember the conversation, only the immense pain she felt. Lily was dead, Lily’s husband was dead and their young son, was alive.

It seemed fitting that Lily’s last act was one of bravery, she was always heroic, and Petunia assumed she would be happy to have died in glory.

She found herself feeling sick; Lily, the golden child, the magical daughter, was dead. And she was alive. Petunia felt that life was cruel, that it had no real purpose except to be mean, in the end it didn’t matter who was magical, it didn’t matter who was more talented. Because one was dead, and the other was alive.

Petunia found herself stuck, she was the remaining sister, that had to count for something. But Petunia was overwhelmed with the thought that, maybe Lily should be here instead. She supposed that Lily would know what to do, and in her position would have taken in Dudley with open arms, her sickly-sweet smile plastered on her face.

Petunia didn’t know why then, she was struggling. To even think about taking in Harry. To her, it was her sister’s way of beating her, even in death. “Petunia! Please look after my son! You can’t say no because I’m _dead_ ”. Petunia just wanted a comfortable life, a calm and quiet one, with her son.

Petunia said no. “No, Albus, I will not look after my sister’s child. Yes, Albus, I am a mother myself. No, Albus, she wouldn’t have done it for me”

And that was that. She didn’t know what would happen to Harry. And scolded herself for not caring.

But Dumbledore did not listen. She had said no. So why then? Was Harry on her doorstep. It was irresponsible, leaving a child outside in the cold night. She had no choice.

She didn’t know when it happened, but she became increasingly unable to look Harry in the eye. Every time she did, she was reminded of Lily, the piercing green that looked at her, that smiled at her. And she hated it. Lily was looking at her from beyond the grave. The only saving grace is that this boy had brown hair, her husband’s hair. He was a perfect combination of his parents.

Petunia sometimes felt bad for the boy. Being dumped on a doorstep. An Orphan. With an ugly scar on his head. But she couldn’t come to love him. No matter how hard she tried, it was like looking at Lily. Except this Lily, would burp and spit, drool all over her carpet.

She had hoped. That Harry would be a muggle. That no magic would run through his veins at all. She knew that was unlikely. But of course, as he became to get older, he began to show signs of magic. Petunia recognised these signs as those that Lily had displayed in her childhood. At the time, Petunia thought Lily was just odd.

Petunia wondered if she was the only family Harry had, she had to be, for him to be with her. But didn’t Lily’s husband have any family? It seemed awfully unfair to burden the sister you have upstaged your entire life with your kid.

It didn’t help that Harry and Dudley were around the same age. They were in the same year at school, though they looked drastically different. Harry was scrawny and small, whilst Dudley took after his father. Petunia had never wanted a son, let alone two, although she loved Dudley with all her heart. She had longed for a daughter. If she didn’t have Harry, she would have probably tried for a second child, maybe even a third.

Vernon refused to spend his money on his wife’s orphan nephew. He just wouldn’t do it; he couldn’t bring himself to pay for the boy. Especially since Petunia’s sister had been the cause of so much of her upset. Petunia wasn’t working, so there was little she could do. She often dressed Harry up in Dudley’s hand-me-downs, his old clothes that were too small.

Petunia had found herself bitter and cruel, time had changed her, and she no longer saw the world through her 20-year-old eyes. Petunia Dursley was 34, and her son Dudley, was 11. She knew that kids grew up fast, but she never knew how fast. Vernon had insisted on enrolling Dudley into a private school. And Harry, she supposed, would end up going to Hogwarts. 


End file.
